


Kid What’s-His-Name and the Drac Attack

by CallousHeartz



Series: How Time Decides [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Gen, idk man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallousHeartz/pseuds/CallousHeartz
Summary: Ghoul makes a new friend, and Ghoul’s new friend makes him an offer.but is it one he can accept?





	Kid What’s-His-Name and the Drac Attack

This time two days ago, Ghoul had been questioning his instincts.

When he came across that blaster lying by the roadside, he'd had his doubts.  
Mainly because it was white from handle to barrel, not a speck of paint in sight: BLI property, clear as crystal.

He'd wondered, briefly, if it was a trap. 

If the previous 'owner' had slipped a discreet tracking device of sorts onto it and laid it out in plain sight just for him.  
If they'd somehow known he was coming, and this was their opportunity to strike.

And then he'd shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, snatched up the raygun, shoved it in his rucksack and run like the goddamn wind, barely pausing to tie his laces.

 _And thank fuck I did_ , he thinks now as the first car slows down beside him, the sight of its pristine white body all but stopping his pulse in its tracks.

Because the blunt little switchblade in his back pocket wouldn't have been nearly enough to carry him through this one.

Ghoul wastes no time, yanking the blaster out as he stumbles backwards, eyes glued to the vehicle, and throwing his rucksack behind him, aiming vaguely at a nearby cactus, just as the passenger door opens.

With a noise like an animal in battle, Ghoul begins firing. 

His aim is shit, his fingers are shaking and he can barely see the ironed white suits and distorted rubber masks of the Draculoids between smoke and lazer beams, but he can make out the shapes of three of them working against him.

He ducks as a blast narrowly misses the spiked tips of his fringe, but then another lazer shoots over his shoulder from behind.

_Fuck this, there can't be more of them. Not today. I'm not ready for this shit._

But as he turns, ready to aim at another white-masked enemy, he's taken aback instead by the sight of another boy.

He looks to be about a year or so younger than Ghoul himself, with bleached hair and enough piercings in his face and rips, pins and patches in his clothes to prove he's definitely not affiliated with Better Living. 

No - like Ghoul, this guy is one of their targets. 

And they're _his_ target.

He's got a sharper aim than Ghoul - way sharper. Ghoul guesses he's been doing this a while. 

He takes out two Dracs in what looks like a single shot, quickly gestures for Ghoul to move behind him, then sends a blast to the final one, smoke streaming from the barrel of his gun as he stashes it back in his thigh holster. 

He looks around hastily, scraping a sweaty hand through his hair and breathing heavily, before grabbing Ghoul by the arm and tugging him along.

"We gotta get outta 'ere, man," He mumbles, "These fuckers could be th'first of many."

Ghoul's still disorientated as he follows the blonde kid; too much has happened in the last five minutes for him to process it all at once, but when the static in his brain starts to clear, it's replaced by a wave of realisation.

_Oh, fucksake._

He's one of Poison's lot.  
Ghoul recognises him from the posters around the city... Kid something, or something Kid. 

Oddly, Kid What's-His-Name from the Killjoys seems a lot less... well, asshole-y than their leader, but Ghoul figures it's best not to let his guard down too quickly regardless. 

Anyone who willingly associates with Poison probably isn't someone Ghoul's likely to get close with.

He wastes no time in bringing it up, though - best to rip off the plaster rather than ease it slowly and uncomfortably away.

"So.. you're part of the Killjoys, huh?"

"Yeah, tha’s a thing. How'd ya know?" Kid What's-His-Name replies, still tugging Ghoul's arm as they walk as if afraid a Drac's going to sneak up behind them and snatch him.

Ghoul shrugs,  
"Seen your face around."

"Huh, cool. Well, m'name's Kobra. Kobra Kid, if ya want the full deal, but yeah,"

Either this kid's slightly oblivious to his own fame, or he chooses not to acknowledge it.

"Ghoul. Fun Ghoul," Ghoul replies.

"Rad."

They walk on in silence for a little longer, before Ghoul asks,  
"Where exactly are we going?"

"You part of a crew?" Kobra replies.

"Nah,"

"Well. I was thinking ya could jus’ come crash at ours for the night, if ya got nowhere else t-"

Ghoul shakes his head,  
"Oh, no. Hell no."

Kobra turns now, quirking a pierced brow.  
"Got a place of yer own t'stay?"

"Nope.”

"Well th-"

"But I ain't crashing with your lot. No offense to you, I swear," His voice drops to a mumble, "More a certain someone else."

Kobra doesn't seem to hear the last part.  
"Listen, dude. I dunno how long ya been out here -"

"Like, a month or two,"

"A'ight. Well, ya got nowhere to go, nearly got yer 'ead blasted off by a couple'a Dracs and now yer thinking of pissing off t'Destroya knows where on yer own. Sounds a tad, y'know, deadly,”

Ghoul sighs heavily and stops walking.  
"I know your intentions are good, man. But hear me out: I've had two run-ins with your leader since I've been out here, and I don't fancy another one anytime soon."

"Ah... ah, right," Kobra nods slowly, scratching his hair.  
“Yeah, that makes sense. Thinking about it now, ya do sorta match the description of th'guy ‘e mentioned a little while back,"

"He mentioned me?" Ghoul's fists automatically clench, even though Poison's nowhere nearby, "The fuck did he say about me?"

"Nothin’ important, nothin’ important," Kobra holds up his palms, "Jus' some shit, maybe not the friendliest shit but uh... look, it ain't personal, promise ya. I'm sure you didn't do fuck all wrong, Poison's just...uh... like that at times. He's like, known for it. And Jet and I will be completely shiny with ya,"

"I don't give a shit if it's personal or if it ain't," Ghoul folds his arms.  
“You're a cool dude, Kobra, really, and I appreciate your help a lot. You saved my goddamn life today, quite possibly. But I couldn’t spend a night in that arrogant piece of shit’s vicinity. Might end with my fist in that smug face of his.”

Kobra raises his brows, clearly amused by the strength of Ghoul's words.

"Damn," He laughs, "Never heard anyone summon the courage t'say somethin’ like that about him. Real talk, though, he ain't all that b-"

"He's a fucking asswipe."

"Alright, alright. So yeah, Poison's... something. But in all honesty, you wouldn't even see him that much. And Jet and I know how to make him chill out a bit,"

Ghoul gives him an incredulous look, but Kobra nods earnestly,  
"Trust me. It’s getting real dark, and fuck knows who's on your tail right now,"

He glances behind them as if his own words might've summoned something, and Ghoul lets out a deep sigh, because the offer really, really does sound tempting. 

He's exhausted, the zones are freezing at night wherever he goes, not to mention how earlier's little incident has shaken him to his core.  
Plus, he might even get a friend or two out of this, even if both of them happen to be part of Poison's crew.

"So, what d'you say, man?”

Ghoul sighs, defeated.  
"If he so much as _looks_ at me..."

"He won't."

And so the boys walk on.  


They're chatting the whole time - Kobra mostly. He's one of those people who's just easy to talk to, easy to laugh with. Easy to get along with.

Nagging knot in his stomach aside, Ghoul might even be able to say he's having a great night.  
A new friend, somewhere to stay - this is the best situation he's been in in a while.

But as the glitching lights of what was once a retro-style diner come into view, the knot seems to take over.  
He sucks in a shaky breath, clenching and unclenching both fists.

No going back now.


End file.
